


Burning Suns

by NecroFaix



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Invaders (Marvel), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 08:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2017845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NecroFaix/pseuds/NecroFaix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the war, Bucky and Toro always had each other's backs. They both knew how difficult it was to be kids in the middle of a battle field, written off by the adults as being too young to truly understand the things going on around them. They understood each other in a way no one else could.</p><p>Now, finding himself thrust in a new universe, Bucky is determined to be there when Toro needs him the most. It doesn't matter if their history has suddenly changed. When is a friend is in trouble, you don't turn your back on them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burning Suns

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously, I need more of this pairing, it's not fucking fair that there isn't more for these two nerds. God I hate rare-pairs. Fuck my life. Why does this always happen to me?

It’s dead silent in the room. Or at least, it would be dead silent in the room had there not been noise in the distance, the faint echo of gunfire still ringing out in the night. It was a reminder that even in brief moments of peace, war was constantly going on. It never ended, at least not on the front lines. Even at two in the morning, there was no ceasefire.

But for the moment, it was distant, and they were allowed a bit of rest.

The cot wasn’t really big enough for two people, but that didn’t stop Bucky from flopping himself down on the already occupied bed, making the other occupant stir and push half-heartedly at his shoulder.

“C’mon Buck, get offa me.”

“Nah. I’m pretty damn comfortable right here.” With a grin on his face, Bucky wiggled around to fake getting himself comfortable. It was anything but. The metal sides of the cot dug into his shoulders and hip while the arm pinned under his body would become more uncomfortable the longer he laid on it.

“You’re an insufferable butt, y’know that?”

“I think I heard that rumor somewhere, but you know what they say about rumors, dontcha Toro? They’re all dirty lies.”

“Not a rumor, I’m witness to your giant butt-ness.”

“Betcha like my giant butt-ness, huh?”

Toro let out a long suffering groan, realizing he walked himself right into that one. He could have made an effort to backtrack or at least shoot off some more witty banter, but it was in the middle of the night and they really needed all the rest they could get. Tomorrow they would back on the front lines and then who knew when they would get a chance to sleep? It was war. They were soldiers.

Besides, sleep meant not thinking and Toro really liked that idea.

“Geez. Would ya at least get off my arm, it’s falling asleep.”

“Only if you scoot over so I’m not sleeping on a metal bar.”

There was no arguing. Bucky shifted enough that Toro could pull his arm out from under his body and then scoot over just enough that Bucky could roll over, drape himself halfway over the other and both lay on the cot without too much risk of aches and pains the next morning. There were three more empty cots in the room, any one of them Bucky could have chosen for himself without worrying about Steve and Jim going without, but he had to choose this one.

They were used to it. It happened often enough. It was war, and war was not pretty and sometimes soldiers sought comfort from each other. Not Steve. Not Jim. They were always solid, nothing ever bothered them, not enough that they showed weakness like this. Maybe they were just putting on a brave face for the kids or maybe they found comfort in other things, but Bucky and Toro did it just like this, snuggled up on one cot and far from comfortable but feeling comforted nonetheless.

The two were silent for over an hour, listening the chatter of light voices passing in the hall and the sounds of guns and distant booms of explosions over the hills outside of the tiny shack they were camping out in. In that hour, Steve and Jim had yet to join them. They would probably stay up all night going over maps, war plans, and coded transmissions.

“So. Are we gonna talk about what happened?”

Toro didn’t answer for a beat, but Bucky knew he wasn’t asleep. Finally, after a few minutes of silence that wasn’t really silence, he muttered a petulant, “Talk about what?”

“You know damn well about what. You. What happened.”

“Uh huh, and what about me and what happened? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Bucky rolled his eyes in the darkness even though the gesture went unseen. He shifted around, laying his chin on Toro’s shoulder so he could speak in a low murmur and still be heard. “See, I know what you’re doing. You think I’m not going to come right out and say it. You think you can play dumb and I’m not going to be callous enough, or blunt enough, to fill you in on exactly what you know we’re going to talk about. Obviously you don’t know me very well if you think I’m going to keep my mouth shut, Toro. I’m talking about last week, when you decided to treat a group of Naziz like a weenie roast. That’s what I’m talking about.”

With the way he was draped over Toro, he could feel it when the other swallowed hard and the way he tensed up, ever so slightly. Bucky didn’t need to see his expression to know exactly what it looked like.

“Do you have to phrase it that way, Bucky?” His voice was weak, nothing but a hoarse whisper.

“Yes I have to phrase it that way.” A contrast to Bucky’s usual tone, though the carefree part of it held a lot of worry under the surface, something he always tried to hide. “It’s a coping mechanism, y’know. Joking about stuff like that.”

“It’s not a coping mechanism for me.”

“So what do you want me to say?”

“Call it what it is. I murdered them. I killed them, Buck. All of ‘em. You don’t joke about something that like, treat it like it’s nothing. I took lives out there, human lives, and it doesn’t matter who they were or what side they were on, I killed them. They were soldiers like us and I killed them.”

So yeah, they were talking about it. They always talked about it, whatever it was. It changed based on the circumstance, became whatever was bothering one of them, and regardless of who did or didn’t want to talk, they always discussed it.

Bucky shifted again, this time with his cheek pressed against Toro’s shoulder, forehead resting the curve of his friend’s neck.

“Yeah, you did kill ‘em.” Lying isn’t a thing Bucky does. Not usually, not about important things, and certainly not to Toro. He feels Toro tense further under him, like a bow, strung and pulled back hard enough to crack under the pressure. It’s not the first time Toro’s been to that point, and Bucky certainly knows the feeling too, but by some miracle neither of them have ever fully broken. “You killed ‘em and you know what would have happened if you didn’t? They would have killed you.” Bucky’s voice is gentle but there’s a hard steel under it leaving no room for argument. “They would have killed you. Or they would have killed me. Or Cap. Or Torch. Or Namor. Or any one of the other guys out there serving with us.”

Toro doesn’t respond right away, but a tiny bit of the tension eases. Still, when he does speak it’s a soft, “I don’t want to talk about this, Buck. Can we please go to sleep?”

“We both know you’re not going to sleep. We’re talking about this. We always talk about stuff like this.” Bucky almost sounds defensive. Within right. Sometimes they put up a fight when they finally settle down to talk about whatever’s been weighing on them, but in the end they always talk. It’s not an option. They’re friends, and it’s what friends do.

“I don’t want to talk about this.” Bucky opens his mouth and Toro can feel it as Bucky moves to say something else so he’s quick to cut in, voice a bit sharper than he meant at first. “I don’t want to talk about it and I don’t want pity right now!”

Bucky closes his mouth and Toro can’t help but think that it serves him right. He feels guilty several seconds after it crosses his mind because Bucky doesn’t say anything in those few seconds. Then suddenly Toro’s mind is running through the possibility of his words fucking something up. Did he hurt Bucky’s feelings? Is Bucky mad? Did--

“I don’t know what you’re thinkin’ but I don’t pity you, bud.” Toro exhales in relief because he knows that tone. Bucky’s using his pouting tone and Toro can picture exactly how Bucky has his bottom lip jutted out, further on the right side of his mouth than his left, in some sort of lopsided display of childish insult. It means he’s not angry or upset. “I don’t pity you or anyone else out there. Pitying people is stupid.”

“Well it kind of feels like you’re pitying me.” Toro forces his voice to be lighter so that maybe he can steer them away from the heavy conversation and onto more witty banter.

He thinks maybe it works when Bucky snorts and says, “If I pitied you, dumbo, I would let you have a cot all to yourself instead of forcin’ you to share one with my giant ass. And I wouldn’t have stolen a spoon-full of your beans at dinner--“

“Hey!”

“--and I wouldn’t be here right now, forcing you to talk about somethin’ you really don’t want to talk about.”

They both fall quiet for a few seconds. The gunfire hasn’t moved any further away, but it isn’t closer either. The explosions are fewer, though.

“Whatdaya want me to say, Buck?”

“I don’t know. What do you want to say?”

Toro’s chest heaves. It could be a sigh or it could be a hitch in his breathing or it could be the beginning of him hyperventilating. “I don’t know what you want me to say. What, how I see them when I close my eyes? How I see their skin melting off and their eyes wide and in pain and how I hear their screams? I know I’ve seen it and I’ve heard it all before but it’s _different_ because I know _I’m_ the cause. That I’m the one doing it.” Definitely hyperventilating. His chest is rising and falling under Bucky harshly, his words quick and quickly rising above a whisper. “I saw their bodies and I’ll never forget it. You couldn’t even tell who they were, that they were human, they were twisted and mangled and burnt and it was all my fault, I was the one that did it, it was me and I couldn’t control myself and I killed them, I killed them, I--“

Bucky sat up quickly and pressed a hand over Toro’s mouth, halfway straddling him and shushing him gently.

“Stop, stop. Christ, just _breathe_.” Now that he was looking, he could see the way Toro’s eyes looked watery around the edges, how they were wide with panic and fear, more like a frightened animal than anything else. Nothing like the kid Bucky fought with on a daily basis. Nothing like the kid that could bravely face Nazis and bullets and death with barely a thought. It would have surprised Bucky except it didn’t at all. “Listen to me, Toro. Breathe." Toro sucked in a few quick breaths through his noise and let out a choked sob against Bucky’s hand, and within seconds shame was added to the list of emotions shining in his eyes before he squeezed them shut. Bucky removed his hand, allowing Toro to take a few shaky breaths in through his mouth before turning his face away and burying it into the side of the cot.

He was shaking pretty bad and Bucky felt his heart tug. He shushed Toro a few more times, gently, laying back down over him protectively with his fingers carding through his friend’s hair.

“Hey, hey. I’ve been where you are. I’ve been there, Toro. I get it. You don’t hafta get all embarrassed. I’m not judging you.” The soothing words and soothing voice had Toro breaking at the seams, pressing his face into Bucky’s shoulder to muffle his cries.

That went on for about twenty minutes. Bucky didn’t count, of course, he just patiently sat there, holding Toro’s shaking body against his and showing his friend some solidarity that seemed desperately needed. He didn’t talk again until Toro had slowly calmed down, his hiccups stopping and his body no longer trembling. He wasn’t asleep, just exhausted and with a few extra sniffs, he lay hunched and miserable in Bucky’s arms.

“’M sorry.”

It was such a light murmur that Bucky almost didn’t hear it. “Nothin’ to be sorry about. Like I said, I’ve been here. Not exactly the same situation, but.” Toro stayed silent and when it stretched on for too long, when the pattering of guns in the background started to drive him crazy, Bucky continued. “I stabbed a man. Cap an’ I were still in the states, and this guy was gonna blow up a train. Just that week I was complaining about not being on the front lines and I thought I was such a man, y’know? Been through hell and back with Cap, it felt like, figured I could take on the world and then we were on this train and I threw my knife at this crazy fuck trying to blow the whole thing up. It was weird. It was like time slowed down the second it hit. Right through his neck, too. But like. He looked at me afterwards, _right at me_ , and he never stopped even after he hit the ground. Before that I thought I could do anything, after that I realized I _could_ do anything, I just didn’t want to. I just really, really didn’t want to.”

“Sorry,” Toro repeated. “Sometimes I forget you’ve been at this a little longer than I have. I probably seem stupid, don’t I? I’m older than you were at the time, I shouldn’t--“

“No, no, no, that’s not what I’m saying, Toro,” Bucky was quick to jump in with. “It doesn’t matter how old you are, it’s all the same. The first time you realize you can kill someone, it’s. It’s not easy. You can be eighty and it’s never going to be easy.”

Toro shifted closer to Bucky, snuggling against him. “Does it at least get easier?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky answered honestly, his arms tightening ever so slightly around the boy in his arms. “I wouldn’t say it gets easier, it just gets different. You don’t forget your first time. And for awhile after that, you don’t forget them. When you close your eyes they’re there, and they stare at you and they blame you no matter how much you try to justify it. Then you get to the point where you can’t even really count ‘em. It’s war, Toro. You shoot people and you don’t have time to stop and see their faces or you blow something up and you never know who you killed or how many were in the blast so when you close your eyes, you don’t even see faces, you just see forms and figures and you _know_. You get really good at ignorin’ them though. You get to the point where you close your eyes, and see them, but you don’t feel anything.”

Toro shivered. “I don’t want to end up like that.” As an afterthought he added, “No offense.”

Bucky just chuckled dryly. “No one wants to end up like that. If you don’t want to end up like that, you’re in the wrong place, buddy.” There was no answer and after a few minutes Bucky realized there wasn’t going to be an answer. He gently scratched his nails along the back of Toro’s neck, right at his hairline. “No matter what happens, you’re a good person, Toro.” There was a skeptical snort from the other but Bucky shook his head. “I’m serious. Y’know how I know? You’re warm. Warm people can’t be bad people. People who are warm have a warm soul, and that means that they’re good people, through and through.”

“Yeah right. Shut up, Buck.” Toro’s tone was lighter though, back to bordering on teasing.

“Seriously. Steve’s a good person, and he’s always warm. So’s Torch.”

“But Namor’s always cold and clammy. Plus Torch an’ I can catch on fire, of course we’re warm.”

Bucky’s snort was back to being lighthearted. “That’s ‘cause Subby’s a fish. He’s supposed to be cold and clammy, that’s the human equivalent of being warm, probably. And it doesn’t matter what you can do, you’re still warm.”

“Then what about you? Even Namor says you always feel cold to the touch. Remember when he bumped into you and called you an ice cube? He was surprised you weren’t shivering or anything.”

Toro couldn’t see the grin that crossed Bucky’s face, nothing happy and everything bitter. “Yeah, well, I’m me. I’m different.”

Toro shook his head against Bucky’s chest. “You’re good too, Buck. You are.”

“Uh huh. Sure. C’mon, we need to get some sleep if we’re going to be going out on the front lines tomorrow. Cap would skin us both if he found out we were stayin’ up chatting like a couple a’ dames instead of sleeping like we’re supposedta be.”

“You’re a good person.” It was nothing more than a quiet whisper as Toro shifted to get comfortable, face pressed into Bucky’s chest and arms coming up to wrap around the other. “You are. You’re a good person and a good friend and if you don’t believe it I’m just going to have to keep saying it until you do.”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a gentle smile. “Good luck with that. I ain’t about to stop you.”

He felt Toro grin into his chest before nuzzling into it, warm and comforting, like a physical manifestation of his soul. Bucky swore up and down that when Toro was zipping around the sky like a fireball, it was really just his soul lighting up so brightly he couldn’t contain it. It’s why he could catch on fire when, unlike Jim, he was just a normal person. Bucky felt like the luckiest guy in the world to have such a good friend, someone so good his brightness just poured from every part of his body as he lit the sky up like the sun.

He would never, ever let something extinguish that in Toro. Not even if it cost him his life.


End file.
